Honestly, it boils down to this: Not Rick Wagoner, Bill Ford, Carlos Ghosn, Bernd Pieschetsrieder, J rgen Schrempp, Sergio Marchionne, Roger Smith, Katsuaki Watanabe, nor even Dieter Zetsche nor Lido will ever be known as "Il Commendatore." And this friends, is why modern culture is sucking right now. We need us some Duces, some F hrers, some Emperors; some His Majesties the Whatevers. And then we need a bunch of anarcho-syndicalists just for fun. Throw in a Papa Hemingway for good measure. Remember back in the Eighties when Goodyear used to run the spot that asked something like, "Why does every new Ferrari ride on Goodyear tires?"

(Cut to red italian supercar stopping after haviing blasted up a mountain road, silver-haired, be-sunglassed European man exiting driver's door.) "Because Mister Ferrari wants it that way." Now try imagining Ghosn, for example, leaving the exact same car in the exact same shot. Ghosn's pen probably isn't stocked with purple ink, either. Face it, you'd go buy a set of Sumitomos or Bridgestones just to not be associated with the guy. We're tired of stock-exchange democracy, ridiculous cost-cutting, needless gadgets and lawsuit diplomacy. Adventures with multiple fists! Onward! Upward! Kill the Corolla! Down with the 612 Sca(nk)g! Viva the Corvair Monza! Viva Cannon Ball Baker! Viva chest hair!